LizardViolet
Silver Member
Just dropping in to report that (once again) I've called it quits with my bf.
The problem that broke the camel's back was that he would often get triggered when he couldn't reach me, if I didn't answer the phone or respond quickly enough to a text, and he would react badly. And then he would blame me and tell me I was being crazy, and claim that his anger or his pushing me away was justified.
He did this several times during one week back in July, including an evening he should have known I was busy with family stuff (I had emailed him about it) when he threw a bit of a tantrum. At that point, I backed off and said I was taking a break and would be glad to see him again when he was able to deal with this problem. I've been trying to talk to him about this issue for more than two years and his response is either to ignore me, or to say I'm crazy.
He's having an especially hard time this year. His father is dying of cancer. He is without a dog (his beloved dog died more than two years ago and he has not been ready to get another pet). His Buddhist congregation fell apart. That was the biggest blow, I think, because his Buddhist practice was one of the most important things in helping him to be calm and centered. As far as I know he hasn't been meditating at all. But I can't be everything to him, and my patience and resilience had been fraying already after two and a half years of pounding my head on a brick wall about the way he would react to me missing a call or a text. The way he was treating me was disrespectful and abusive and I was done with letting it go.
I had thought I would give him three or four months, or six. I also am trying, off and on, to find another place for his Buddhist group to meet (with the knowledge and consent of the group leader, but without his knowledge). There's no particular reason to expect that he would rejoin the group if it started up again, but it was and is the only thing left that I can do to help him.
I didn't give our separation enough time, though. I spent a sad month without him, and then I got really sick with gastroenteritis. And I emailed him, because I thought of one more way to frame the conflict we were having. He responded in exactly the same way as usual. But for some reason, as I got better, I stayed in touch and ultimately we got together again for a week or so. I missed him, I guess, and it was clear that he really missed me too. I love him more than I can explain, and it's very hard to be without him.
Except exactly the same thing happened again, inside of that week. And I got terribly angry, and called it quits.
I've learned a lot about ptsd in the past eight months. I tried to pass some of that information on to him. He has never sought treatment for it, and he has not been to a therapist since probably his teen years (when he was not diagnosed, although I suspect he had ptsd in childhood from his parents' abuse). He went to a ptsd support group briefly, before I met him, but quit when one of the members killed himself.
One of the ways that I framed the problem with his behavior was that I said, You get triggered. I said, this is not something you choose and not something I blame you for. You're on the train and it has left the station and you can only ride it. Except that you need to cope with it in some way other than lashing out at me.
Well, I mentioned the idea of triggering while we were together, and he reacted very badly. (It was in the context of a trip we made to the Humane Society -- he was finally able to consider getting another dog, but seeing the dogs, he became upset, probably a particular dog who reminded him of his dear departed.) So the word "trigger" is a trigger, at least when it comes from me. I don't know how much of what I tried to communicate to him actually got into his head. Maybe someday he'll be able to think about it, and maybe someday he'll want to do something about it. He's convinced that he's going to die soon, which is also possible, since he's been drinking heavily for more than ten years and apparently he has scars on his liver.
I'm very sad. I miss him terribly. I'm trying to be kind to myself, to appreciate my husband and my kid and my friends, and concentrate on work and supply myself with plenty of distractions. I had a good session with my therapist yesterday and had a good cry. It's really hard, but it will get easier. And who knows how the story will end.
The problem that broke the camel's back was that he would often get triggered when he couldn't reach me, if I didn't answer the phone or respond quickly enough to a text, and he would react badly. And then he would blame me and tell me I was being crazy, and claim that his anger or his pushing me away was justified.
He did this several times during one week back in July, including an evening he should have known I was busy with family stuff (I had emailed him about it) when he threw a bit of a tantrum. At that point, I backed off and said I was taking a break and would be glad to see him again when he was able to deal with this problem. I've been trying to talk to him about this issue for more than two years and his response is either to ignore me, or to say I'm crazy.
He's having an especially hard time this year. His father is dying of cancer. He is without a dog (his beloved dog died more than two years ago and he has not been ready to get another pet). His Buddhist congregation fell apart. That was the biggest blow, I think, because his Buddhist practice was one of the most important things in helping him to be calm and centered. As far as I know he hasn't been meditating at all. But I can't be everything to him, and my patience and resilience had been fraying already after two and a half years of pounding my head on a brick wall about the way he would react to me missing a call or a text. The way he was treating me was disrespectful and abusive and I was done with letting it go.
I had thought I would give him three or four months, or six. I also am trying, off and on, to find another place for his Buddhist group to meet (with the knowledge and consent of the group leader, but without his knowledge). There's no particular reason to expect that he would rejoin the group if it started up again, but it was and is the only thing left that I can do to help him.
I didn't give our separation enough time, though. I spent a sad month without him, and then I got really sick with gastroenteritis. And I emailed him, because I thought of one more way to frame the conflict we were having. He responded in exactly the same way as usual. But for some reason, as I got better, I stayed in touch and ultimately we got together again for a week or so. I missed him, I guess, and it was clear that he really missed me too. I love him more than I can explain, and it's very hard to be without him.
Except exactly the same thing happened again, inside of that week. And I got terribly angry, and called it quits.
I've learned a lot about ptsd in the past eight months. I tried to pass some of that information on to him. He has never sought treatment for it, and he has not been to a therapist since probably his teen years (when he was not diagnosed, although I suspect he had ptsd in childhood from his parents' abuse). He went to a ptsd support group briefly, before I met him, but quit when one of the members killed himself.
One of the ways that I framed the problem with his behavior was that I said, You get triggered. I said, this is not something you choose and not something I blame you for. You're on the train and it has left the station and you can only ride it. Except that you need to cope with it in some way other than lashing out at me.
Well, I mentioned the idea of triggering while we were together, and he reacted very badly. (It was in the context of a trip we made to the Humane Society -- he was finally able to consider getting another dog, but seeing the dogs, he became upset, probably a particular dog who reminded him of his dear departed.) So the word "trigger" is a trigger, at least when it comes from me. I don't know how much of what I tried to communicate to him actually got into his head. Maybe someday he'll be able to think about it, and maybe someday he'll want to do something about it. He's convinced that he's going to die soon, which is also possible, since he's been drinking heavily for more than ten years and apparently he has scars on his liver.
I'm very sad. I miss him terribly. I'm trying to be kind to myself, to appreciate my husband and my kid and my friends, and concentrate on work and supply myself with plenty of distractions. I had a good session with my therapist yesterday and had a good cry. It's really hard, but it will get easier. And who knows how the story will end.
